Fanfic Angel and Dazzler 1 Alison's Tale
by Truedarkhunter
Summary: An original piece where Angel and Dazzler finally get together. This is in an alternate world where Warren lost his wings but did not get turned into the Angel of Death. So no blue skin. And Dazzler did not go off with Longshot. There are a lot of other variances, but just roll with them. Try it, you'll love it.
1. Chapter 1

Fanfic Angel and Dazzler 1 Alison's Tale

Author's note: I'm really looking for feedback on this one. The only way I can improve is by critique and this is a new genre for me to tackle. As you know, I don't own the characters, Marvel does. And if you really like this, you can always suggest the next X-Men movie have more of these two in it. ;) However, the story itself, once I have it perfected, is getting altered so that I can use it in my own works with my own characters. But believe me, it is easier to learn something new and take criticism using someone else's sandbox. This said, I am enclosing the first page of the early version prior to the later version for comparison. Also, there is the companion piece to this one written from Warren's point of view. Check them both out and see if the dialogue sounds realistic for both sexes. (Oh, and I had to edit the actual main scene for content. Hopefully it won't break the flow overly.) And without further ado, let me introduce you to the best fanfic never read on the net.

Old version:

At last they were alone in his penthouse suite. Warren's home had windows all over the place. That really shouldn't have surprised Alison given how much he loved flying. Currently the entire New York harbor and part of the city were visible, lit up by the city lights.

This far up, the noises were gone. There was only the beauty of the stark contrast of light and darkness.

"Do you want a drink?" came Warren's voice over the bar that connected to the kitchen. Frankly, there had been far too much drink involved in Warren's recent past for Alison's liking. So instead of answering, she left the couches that faced the view of the world outside and joined him in the kitchen.

"I think I would rather have something else entirely," she said as wrapped her arms around his bare chest and leaned up to nibble on his ear.

"Oh?" He said archly, cocking his head a bit more to the side to make it easier for her, not the least bit surprised or repentant. "Well, tell me then, Alison, what do you want?" His hands had set down the crystal tumbler and the decanter. This made her happy.

"I thought you might like to show me the part of the house that didn't have windows," Alison said, drawing Warren towards a doorway that was the most likely spot for a bedroom. Warren laughed in response, shocking her some.

"You won't find many spots like that here, except maybe the bathroom. But I do have shades I can pull in the bedroom, if you like." His eyes deepened from azure to sapphire as he spoke and his voice took on a rougher, huskier tone. Alison realized Warren probably enjoyed flying women up to his bedroom as part of the whole "Angel experience". She didn't care to think about his other conquests. His playboy ways had been well established in the tabloids and were one of the reasons she never made a play for him in the past. But with his wings gone, replaced by man-made mechanical ones, she didn't think he had pursued lovers as he once did. And that might be one of the reasons alcohol had become such a close friend. Well, that and the fact that he lost his wings in the first place. For Warren, his mutation was his life. His wings defined him and made him look like an angel while he played the devil.

But Alison didn't want to focus on that right now. She didn't want to think too much about things lest she lose her nerve. She had wanted Warren for so long, but she was from middle-class America and he was one of the wealthiest and most desired bachelors in the world, his mutation not withstanding. But she had eschewed his advances in the end. She wasn't looking to be another one-night-stand. She couldn't stand the idea of becoming just a notch on his belt and she feared it would have hurt them in the field if their relationship had changed and gone any farther than it had in the past. But that was then, and this is now.

New version:

Fake reviews from actual authors:

"Best use of font I've seen. And the margins…!" Jim C. Hines

"Best fan-fiction I've never read." heather l. nelson

"…" Wolfgang Diehr

The elevator hummed with desire. It rode along with the occupants like a building storm. Warren's home had windows all over the place. Alison stayed silent on the ride up, watching Warren's shoulders grow tense as they rose. The metal wings made a susurrus as he shifted with impatience. She doubted he even realized it.

"We're here," he said and she saw him pull his elevator key free as the doors suddenly opened to a vast room. The entire back wall was covered in windows from top to bottom. That really shouldn't have surprised Alison given how much he loved flying.

Alison stepped out wonderingly and took in the stunning view. Currently she could see all of the city and part of the harbor lit up by the glow of the city lights. This far up, the noises were gone. There was only the beauty of the stark contrast of light and darkness. "Wow, the view from here is amazing," she heard herself say.

Warren's voice echoed from a side room, "Go ahead and enjoy it. I'll join you in a minute." Alison ran a hand along the fabric of the seats near the window. They appeared to fit together like a couch but the back that started off high on one end curved down next to nothing. It must be a concession to deal with the new wings, she decided. She wondered how he managed things after the surgery. She ran a finger along the couch with a new appreciation.

Hearing the steps of his return, Alison continued their conversation. "I don't think I've seen the harbor from this high up. New York seems so peaceful when you see it from afar. The lights really do beckon, don't they?

Warren came around the floating staircase and headed towards the kitchen area. He was bare-chested now and she could see the definition of his muscles even from across the room. He raised an eyebrow at her and said, "Perhaps they do for a singer, like you. I prefer keeping a distant vantage point when I can," Warren replied. "Things can get really ugly when you are on street level." Alison looked back at the lights of the city and wondered what Angel saw when he stood here.

"Do you want a drink?" Came Warren's voice over the bar connected to the kitchen. Frankly, there had been far too much drink involved in Warren's recent past for Alison's liking. She needed to distract him, but was she really ready for this? Looking up at him, she realized she wanted him. All these years and he was the one she had always wanted. So instead of answering, she left the couches that faced the view of the world outside and joined him in the kitchen.

"I think I would rather have something else entirely," she said as she wrapped her arms around his bare chest and leaned up to nibble on his ear.

"Oh?" He said archly, cocking his head a bit more to the side to make it easier for her, not the least bit surprised or repentant. "Well, tell me then, Alison, what do you want?" She saw his hands set down the crystal tumbler and the decanter. This pleased her.

Glancing behind her, she guessed which doorway led to his bedroom. She took his hand in hers and backed away, pulling him along with her gently. "I thought you'd like to show me the part of the house that didn't have windows." She held his gaze as she walked backward with a cat-like step.

"You won't find many spots like that here, except maybe the bathroom," he said to her, chuckling. Alison slowed in surprise. She gave him her best come hither look and this is what she got for it?

"You're laughing at me," she said, sounding hurt. So much for being seductive, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Alison probably wouldn't even break Warren's top ten no matter how she felt about him. He'd use her and throw her away and she'd be alone again, just like she always feared. Doubt crept in.

"No, no, I'm not, I promise. It's just that I picked this place because it has windows all the way around. I like to see trouble coming in advance," he said quickly and then he moved even quicker. Alison started as Warren closed the space between them in the blink of an eye. She found herself suddenly pressed against the bare skin of his chest as one strong arm encircled her waist as the other brushed against her arm as it reached past her. "Here, let me get the door for you." Her eyes followed the opening door and she took in Warren's bedroom. True to his word, the lights of the city blazed through the full-length windows of the far wall. The wall behind the bed was a dark charcoal, lit softly by a pair of triangular wall sconces. Rich blue carpets covered the floor and even the comforter on the huge bed sported a single large matching stripe of the same blue.

"Look at this room! I wouldn't have thought you were so fond of blue."

"Well now you know," he replied.

The rest of the room was austere, everything tucked away behind hidden cabinets. Her eyes settled on a lower, single grey bed and she looked back at him and asked, "What's the second bed for? Do you have some sort of living arrangement with someone?" It wasn't attractive, and looked rather like the kind of spot a medical aid might nap. Was this from Warren's recovery?

Warren coughed slightly then said, "Since I had the metal wings bonded to me, I can't sleep on my back without tearing up a normal bed. So I had a smaller, more durable bed made for the nights I need a break from sleeping on my stomach." He wouldn't meet her eyes. She realized from his reaction that no one else knew about this.

She carefully turned inside the circle of his arms. Warren's face looked so vulnerable suddenly. So she waited for him to meet her eyes before saying, "I'm glad you found a way out of your dilemma. I take it the large bed is more for recreation these days?"

It was clear that her words weren't the ones he had been expecting. When he finally looked at her, she didn't flinch under his intense scrutiny. She could feel the tension leave his muscles as he realized she meant it, and then a smile crept onto his face. He leaned in close to her and said, "Well it hasn't seen much recreation lately, but perhaps you would like to change that?"

His eyes held passion, but also a hopeful pleading. The odds were good that Warren was just as lonely as Alison had been. Bedding a rich playboy had always seemed like a losing proposition for a girl who wanted a long-term relationship. But Alison wound up avoiding any relationship longer than a weekend in order to keep her secret safe. Her love affairs since the one fling with Bobby, her teammate, had been exactly what she was trying to avoid: short, meaningless, and often because of her stardom as a singer rather than for who she really was. She managed to suppress a bitter laugh at the thought although a pained smile came to her face. The low lighting was on her side, though, for Warren took it to be one of happiness.

He stepped past her, into the room made a graceful turn at the foot of the bed, and reached out a single hand to her in invitation with a flourish. Her smile turned genuine and she took the last steps into the room, into his arms, and into destiny.

Warren's shirtless skin glowed under the soft light of the wall lamps. His wings reflected it down his well-muscled body. Alison compared his new physique, built to carry the heavy, metal wings; to the lean, lithe boy she used to know. She liked him then and she still liked him now.

His hands were gentle as he laid her back against the soft down of the comforter. Of course it was down, Alison couldn't believe she hadn't realized it from the start. It felt as soft as a cloud and his hands were warm as they caressed her legs and removed her shoes from her feet. She gently reminded him about the windows and he turned good-naturedly to close the thin veil ones, but made no move to block more of the light from outside. As he returned, Alison held up her hand to stop him and asked, "Do you have any music? I would appreciate it." As a reply, Warren reached into a dark cubby next to the bed that she hadn't even noticed. A simple flick of the remote in his hand bathed the room with the sounds of soft rock.

He gave her a sideward glance, one eyebrow arching higher as he asked, amused, "Will this suffice, my lady?" She nodded and he stretched out beside her on the bed. Alison felt the heat coming off his skin, the muscles taut beneath, as she brushed her fingers against him. She leaned her head against his chest, reveling in the moment. She felt a slight pang of trepidation, as much as she wanted this, wanted him, a part of her still feared he would leave her come morning. But his hand reached under her arm and across her shoulder to pull her against him. His eyes became a stormy blue just before their lips touched and the electrifying rush of his kiss filled her.

Her breath came in short, hungry gasps and a shudder ran across her as too many emotions caged for far too long sought release. Tears sprung to her eyes as his kisses traced a trail of desire along her throat and shoulder. The rough traces of his beard, nearly invisible blonde needles, ran back across the line he made emphasizing the reality of the moment. He caught her wince and paused at the fullness of the tears she fought to hide.

Warren ran a hand over his chin, "It's not that bad is it?" But his frown suggested that maybe he thought it was. "I can go shave if…"

"No. No, that's not it Warren," she said, managing to smile at his honest misunderstanding and the concern in his tone. Warren's ego was probably a bit fragile right now as well.

"Well then, what is it? Do you want to stop?" he managed to say, but she could see the hurt in his eyes even though he tried to keep his tone even. The mighty Angel wasn't used to rejection and with his wings clipped; she might be the first one he had opened up to since they were removed. It was strange to see the mighty Warren Worthington III act like a nervous college kid. He always seemed so untouchable with money, power, and those wings that would carry him away anywhere, that Alison had lost sight of the fact that he was still human underneath. Her worry about him leaving her after just one night melted away in the face of the hurt only partially masked in his beautiful blue eyes.

"No, I've just wanted this for so long, it's hard to believe it's happening. That I'm here with you, that you really want me, too…" Alison's hand flew up to her mouth. Damn! What an awful thing to say! Maybe he didn't catch it?

His eyes lightened a bit with humor and a wicked, heart-stopping grin crossed his face. "Oh, so that's what you were worried about? Well, Alison," Warren had managed to undo the clasp of his black dress pants and they fell to the ground between one moment and the next. As her eyes followed them down, he was suddenly upon her, his broad chest hovering a mere inch from her own as he leaned down, his whiskers tickling her ear as he breathed into it saying, "I've always wanted you, Alison. You're the one who broke things off before, remember?" Alison squirmed a bit from the rough beard hairs, but stopped at his words, "So I had better make this one count, eh?" And with that he pulled back from her, and sat straddling her in black briefs gazing down at her seeming to just drink in the sight of her. Then he pulled away and stood one last time to reach inside the dark shelf that held the remote. He brought out a set of gold foil packets and held them up. "Do you want me to use these?" It took her a minute to realize he was offering to use a condom.

"Only if you want to, I'm covered." She blushed a bit although it was a perfectly reasonable question. He cocked a golden eyebrow for a moment and looked her up and down before coming to a decision and tossing them down and climbing back into bed. He knelt, straddling her right thigh, and took her arm into his hands. With smooth, gentle, practiced grace he leaned back and let her arm slide away through his fingers, brushing the tips down her skin until he held only her hand. Then he bent his head down to lightly kiss each fingertip.

This was too much. It was completely different than any of her other encounters; she should be doing something. She began to wriggle to escape and prop herself up on the pillows so she could lean forward and participate.

"Just _what_ are you doing?" Warren's voice came from over her hand, both husky and commanding in its tone. His grip tightened unpleasantly on her arm. She stopped moving immediately.

"Uh, I thought I should be doing a little more for you, you know." Her face grew hot at the look in his eyes, so dark now as to be oceans beneath storm clouds. She felt his fingers slowly relax. He didn't even fully lift his head, he simply looked up at her from under the spikes his blonde hair made.

"Let me do this for you, Alison. I'm very good at it, I promise you. And I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now." With that he turned her wrist over and kissed it, his tongue snaking out to lightly mark the spot afterward. Alison shivered in unexpected waves of sensation and laid back against the pillows as he bid. She really had never had a man do anything quite like this before. Her lovers while on tour in Europe were interested in having sex with a star, not really her. And she always had to be so careful to make sure no one discovered the truth that she was a mutant. Even her time with Bobby was completely different. She had pretty much seduced him. As fun as it had been, she had been the aggressive one, not him.

Warren kissed her wrist and wandered up her arm placing kisses all along it. She knew him and she could trust him. She could finally just let go and really _feel_ what was happening. A sigh escaped her and her eyes closed as Warren's lips returned to hers. A smile played upon his lips as he kissed her, she could feel it. Her eyes opened languidly, part of her already lost to his sensual touch.

"Aren't you a bit overdressed?" Warren asked, lifting up the edge of her shirt with one finger inquiringly. Alison looked down and realized that she was more clothed than he was.

"Mmm, yeah, I guess you're right." Warren pulled her up with just his fingertips, and left her wondering just how strong he was now and if she was up for whatever he had in mind. But she stripped off her star-blazed top and slid to the edge of the bed to divest herself of her black jeans. As she took them off, she felt Warren's hands at her back. The bra unclasped at his touch before her jeans hit the floor.

"You're a bit forward aren't you?" She said grinning.

He smiled back, "You never get anywhere in this world if you don't go after what you want." And he gently pulled her bra loose and down her arms before she had a chance to become self-conscious. Somehow, having it gone so suddenly, she didn't feel like she needed to be modest. And it seemed to please him even more.

"You do realize you are beautiful, right Ali? You really should have gone for a more revealing costume." Warren leaned down to nuzzle her neck and she hit him lightly on the shoulder.

"I wanted to be discovered for my talent, not for my curves, Mr. Worthington."

He lifted himself slightly with one arm and said, "Mr. Worthington? You pick the oddest times to become formal, dear. As for curves..." With those words he guided her hand down to the fabric of his briefs.

"Well, I suppose fair's fair," Alison said as she pulled his briefs as far down his legs as she could manage from where she was. His eyes crinkled in amusement at her sudden boldness.

Moving carefully to work them the rest of the way down while not leaving his spot over her he said, "You could have just asked. I would have been happy to strip them off for you." His voice was rich with amusement.

"Where's the fun in that?" she replied, and pulled his head down to her chest.

There was a sudden dipping along his spine before he managed to catch himself and prop himself up on his arms over her. "You're no shy blossom, are you Alison? That's good, I rather like a woman who knows what she wants." He laid a line of fiery, damp kisses under her chin and then leaned in to gently blow cool air over her tingling skin. Even Bobby had not thought to play with heat and cold when they had been together. Warren was very good at what he did indeed.

"What I want is you, Warren," she said, the words nearly halting on her tongue as goose bumps rose on her skin.

She felt his weight shift to one side as he looked down at her. "Already? Well then, take me." He sat back and pulled her up along with him as though she weighed no more than a feather and guided her, lowering her tantalizingly slowly, letting her choose the pace.

She gasped in pleasure. His eyes were closed and his face tilted up to hers so she bent down to kiss it. A long, slow shudder of ecstasy cascaded across her. Her hands flew up to his chest, she couldn't help it or contain her reaction to him. She couldn't tell for certain if it was an orgasm or not, so lost in pleasure was she, but Alison hoped it wasn't. She didn't want the moment to end yet. Not ever.

She pressed her face down into his hair and kissed his jaw line, his lips, even the tip of his nose, but as her hands flew over his shoulders he froze. Worried, she asked, "What's the matter? Do your wings still hurt?"

Pain rather than pleasure flashed over his features as he said, "More than you could ever know." Her heart felt his grief. But then he stretched one of his wings out, cupping it carefully around them. She felt his hands draw hers up towards a single, cruelly sharpened blade that made up the "feathers" of his new wings. She shuddered slightly as he drew one of her fingers down the hard metal, close to the cutting edge. Just as she began to worry what he intended to do, he shook his head and kissed her finger, simply saying, "Have a care, they're sharp."

He seemed to be waiting for something so she said, "I understand, I'll-I'll be careful." Now a sigh escaped him as Alison's hands moved slower over his shoulders and brushed lightly against the metal curve where the wings joined his back. Smooth metal, warm from their exertions answered her touch. Now a true orgasm was building up in her, powerful as an ocean wave. She could not hope to stop it or control it so she rode it, a whimper coming from her as it picked her up and carried her towards its crest. And then the wave crested, carrying her in its wake. She cried out. She could feel him responding to her need. At last he paused and just held her, his hands cradling her head. Her lips parted and she reached for a steadier breath. When her eyes opened she saw him staring down at her as though waiting for this cue. And he began again. The song "I Drove All Night" came on and Alison wondered what would happen if she let her own powers loose at play while they made love. Nothing terrible had happened from allowing herself to be in the moment. But she wanted to know what would happen if she did use her powers. Warren knew her, and as a fellow mutant, he would not reject her for it. She was safe with him, and she needed to know.

Carefully, she let the song seep into her, mingling deep in her core. Her breath hitched as arousal began to sweep her once again towards the dizzying heights of pleasure. This time she let everything within her go as she hit the crest. For a moment, her breath stopped, time stopped, and as she sighed out at last she opened her eyes to gaze upon a blue-green shimmer playing across her body and his. The light touched his metal wings and threw patterns, like light on water, across the ceiling, the headboard, and the walls.

Warren's body was growing tenser, and he gasped out, his wings snapping open wide and startling her as his eyes opened and he saw the shimmering light's patterns wandering down his walls. He gazed about in surprise and wonder as he slowed down.

She felt the tension break within him. Slick with the sweat of their entwined bodies, he leaned in to kiss. Separating, he ran his hands ran down her body, and traced its outline. It was wonderful, it was perfect, and she was surprised when he said, "Ali, never leave me."

"Okay," she said, and brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes as he settled beside her, his wings hanging off the edge of the bed as he held her and buried his head against her shoulder. Looking down at him, Alison wondered which of them had been afraid of this encounter more. The singer who never believed a playboy could honestly love her, or the broken Angel who thought that no one could love him again.


	2. Chapter 2

Angel and Dazzler Alone at Last Chapter 2

Morning arrived all too soon and it was quickly blazing in through the sheer curtains lining the walls. Alison gave a little groan and she blinked at its persistent intrusion. She certainly wasn't in a tiny hotel bed and it took her a moment to recall where she was. Glancing over she saw Angel lying beside her, his metallic wings still hanging off the edge of the bed as he lay on his side facing her. Tiny motes of sunlight glanced off of his wings and danced across the ceiling with his every breath.

Gosh, did he look cute in the morning! Probably a lot better than she did. Alison roughed up her hair both to get it to spike and to wake up a bit. It seemed that a night of emotional, and physical, release really took it out of a gal. Just as she was about to slide out of bed to find the nearest bathroom, she felt a hand gently reach out and brush hers.

"Stay. Please?"

Warren's blue eyes looked up at her sleepily but a warm smile played across his lips. Alison laid back down beside him and said, "You know, I do have to get ready for work sometime, right? And besides, I probably have morning breath." She grinned at him but the night was over and she really did need to get cleaned up and tackle the rest of the day, even if she would rather lounge around in bed with her own adoring Angel.

"Well, I suppose that's true. Do you want to use the tub upstairs or would you care to join me in my specialized shower? I promise you it's an experience like no other." With that Warren lifted himself and stretched, his muscles rippling as he ruffled his metallic wings. God, he was beautiful, and shameless it seemed, and…possibly up for another round she decided as her gaze dropped lower.

"Enjoying the view, are we?" Warren said a little archly, his voice cut into her revere, his rich blue eyes were dancing with mischief when she met his gaze, making her blush. "Oh, aren't you adorable when you blush? No need to blush on my account, dear Alison, me casa es tu casa, as am I if you wish. But I will admit, I'm not body shy. I hope it's something you can live with." Warren spoke as he came around to her side of the bed and gallantly offered a hand to help her out with a slight bow. It should look ridiculous, but somehow it didn't. Maybe it was the wings, they added a bit of formality and gravitas even when he was naked. Or maybe he just looked damn good and knew it.

Alison quirked one side of her mouth and said, "I think I can handle it. There isn't much privacy in a changing room with a band, you know." With that she took his hand and slid out of the covers.

"Oh-ho, I suppose that's true. And I guess we have some catching up to do, don't we? And that means that blush was all for me. That makes it all the more special. And you are special, my darling Alison." Warren's voice became deeper and she looked up at him to see some deep intensity clouding his face and darkening his eyes. Well, of course, she thought, she hadn't exactly said anything about last night and even an Angel's ego might need a little flattering.

"You are wonderful Warren. And I think I would like to see this 'amazing' shower of yours. Lead on." Warren's face lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning and he led her across the hall almost to the elevator to a room that had to practically be a shrine to the Gods of Showering. The sink porcelain was white but most of the cabinetry was black. And the walls seemed to be made of some charcoal grey and dusty black granite. But the shower itself was nearly half the room. There were spray nozzles that pointed in from various directions at various heights. A complicated set of controls lined the back wall while overhead a set of lights shown down through an opaque white covering. It was pretty impressive. At her little apartment she thought having a detachable showerhead was doing well.

Warren opened the wide double doors to the showering space and held her hand as she stepped over the tall rim bordering it. Then he brought out a separate set of towels and laid them out next to his. He turned towards her, holding a washcloth and loofah up with an inquiring look. She pointed to the loofah and he smiled, and set the washcloth on the side, and joined her.

"Go ahead and have a seat on the bench over there. I apologize that I don't have any body washes that have a more of a feminine scent. As I said, it's been some time since I've entertained a guest." He looked rather embarrassed about it, which might be the first time she had seen him look embarrassed about anything since she ran into him again!

"Don't worry about it, it's fine," she said at last and enjoyed watching the worry lines leave his brow. Studying his face, it looked like they had started to become etched in rather strongly. Angel must have been carrying a lot of weight on his winged shoulders. Hopefully she would be able to kiss them away and brighten up his life. She caught herself as she thought it, surprised at how easily the thought came to her after all her years alone. But he was the one she wanted. Why fight it? And if it didn't work out she had this moment, and it was far, far better than anything she had enjoyed in years. What harm in stepping into the dream?

The sound of the spray coming on suddenly startled her. It was shooting in from every direction. "Stay where you are for a moment, okay? I want to get my wings wet," Warren said, and surprised, she just nodded. It was certainly an education seeing how the jets were aligned to perfectly scour the metal wings as they stretched open. Warren tilted his head back and let the spray run down his face and onto his chest. His hands laced under his head, and he appeared to give himself over to the warmth of the water, allowing it to soak his hair, his scalp, his body. It was quite a show in and of itself from Alison's viewpoint. Then Warren closed his wings some and asked her for the shampoo and she handed it to him, wondering when she would get to join in. Warren handed back the bottle and finished shampooing his hair before taking a white loofah off the bench.

"Would you do my back? I can never really reach it the way I'd like." His voice was soft, even a little hesitant. With the metal wings, it was probably nearly impossible for him to do this on his own. Sympathy and desire welled up within her.

"Sure," she said and accepted the netted scrub from him. She hadn't really used one on a guy before, but it couldn't be that different. Alison dabbed on a bit of an outdoorsy scented shower gel to it and tried to make sure it wasn't too cold before she started. Then she placed it on his shoulders between the wickedly sharp wings and began making slow circles on his back. She could hear the breathy moan of contentment he made and felt encouraged to scrub a bit harder. There was something tantalizing about watching the suds run down his back. The man did look good from this angle; she had to admit. But the view was distracting her so she moved closer to keep her focus. Little shudders ran over Warren's muscles as she did so. "Am I distracting you?" she asked sweetly, all innocence.

"N..no, not at all," came his reply. The liar.

"So you don't mind if I move a little lower?"

It was amusing to see his muscles betray his desire. "It wouldn't bother me at all."

Taking the loofah she ran it lightly all the way down his spine. He gasped and staggered a bit, throwing one hand up on the wall beside him to help him stay upright. Alison backed away quickly lest the glistening blades catch her vulnerable skin. "You okay?" she asked, wondering if this was such a good idea with a man effectively covered in knives.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he panted. Then asked, "Are you?"

"I'm fine, no harm done. Do you want me to finish?" She asked, sincerely.

"Definitely, but just realize that your turn is next."

A smile playing on her lips, Alison touched up the body wash and ran the loofah lovingly over the powerful muscles in Warren's legs. The man always had good legs, people always noticed his chest muscles or back muscles from his flying, but Alison always admired his legs, it took a lot of strength to leap up and land and she could feel the steel in the corded muscles. It was almost an unconscious motion when she ran the loofah a last time up his leg right to the fork. Almost.

"Do you want me to do your front as well?" she asked, amused at his reaction to her touch.

"No thank you, I can handle my own front quite well, thanks. But I do believe it is your turn," he said with a playful growl in his throat as he turned towards her. Alison realized just how muscular he was and how imposing he looked as he turned around. Her breath caught and she suddenly hoped she hadn't pushed him over the edge. Angel was always a dangerous adversary on the battlefield, and not all the X-men could separate their danger instincts from their normal lives well. Just look at Wolverine.

But her thoughts dissipated as he turned away for a moment to prepare the loofah he had been holding in his right hand all this time. It had wound up a bit flattened while she had lathered him up, confirming how hard she was pushing him. When he turned back to her, his face was composed but his eyes belied his calm demeanor. "Turn around for me and put your hands against the glass, if you would, my dear," he said to her surprise, but she quickly complied.

The rough touch of the loofah soon raked across her back, making her gasp. "That's for being so naughty," he said and kissed her along the swipe as cool water cascaded down its hot length. Then he began in earnest, scrubbing her back thoroughly but a bit less rough than before. Either Angel was serious about getting her clean or he was used to having to use more pressure on his own skin, she couldn't decide which. But finally she spoke up, "Warren, could you be little more gentle?" She felt him pause and then the pressure of each stroke dropped by nearly half. She sighed in relief. It might not be quite enough to get her really clean, but she wouldn't be scrubbed pink either.

"I apologize, love, let me make up for it." So it's love already? They had almost said it last night to each other when he had asked her to stay, but it came out so easily, she had to wonder how many girls had heard the same words before her. But then he leaned his body against hers and ran the loofah down her right arm and then her left and her thoughts scattered with the water droplets. He brought it back along the underside of her right arm and gently rolled it over her chest, circling inward until she arched back into him, his body warm behind her. She gasped at the sensation and he repeated it on the other side, slowly lowering the loofah along her belly until she knew he couldn't fail to tell how excited she as well.

His fingers took the loofah's place, patient and exploring. She could feel his desire for her as well. "Is it safe for me to do this? Are you protected still or do you want me to stop?"

"I'm covered, are you safe?" It was strange to have to ask Angel if he had any issues, especially since she should have asked last night, but the man was known to have been around the block, hell, several blocks if you believed all the tabloids.

She felt him nuzzle her neck and kiss her along the spine there. She shuddered against his waiting hand still pressed against her. "I'm fine, I guess I should ask the same of you first," he murmured against her skin.

"Me too, I've always, ah…" she gasped as his fingers rubbed against her, "always been careful."

"Then may I?" he asked, his other hand coming up from behind to guide him. The skin of his body felt very hot in contrast to the cool water cascading all around.

"Yes," she said, her trembling voice ending in a sigh as he gently and slowly joined his body with hers. His right hand continued to tease her as the loofah provided a sharp counterpoint higher up. She sighed and writhed against him, with nowhere to escape the pleasure of his touch. The heat of his body against her back with the cold feeling of the water rushing down their entwined bodies was a rush she hadn't anticipated. The feel of him was divine. His hands began roving all along her skin and she couldn't hold back the little cries at his touch. "Yes, please, please," she cried out softly, as she came closer and closer but it seemed to be more than he could stand as she felt his release and he gave a groan and panted to stay with her and continue still. It was enough and she arrived soon after him with a simple cry of, "Yes, yes!" Shudders ran over her and she nearly fell at the end, both of them now leaning against the glass for support, panting.

"You are amazing, Alison," he said as he kissed her wet hair and rinsed himself off once more. He lightly rubbed the loofah against her but it was too much for her now. And without a word he gently turned her so that she could finish rinsing off as well.

At last Alison spoke up when Warren turned off the water, "You were right, that was an amazing shower." She smiled at him once he turned around.

He opened the doors for her and offered his arm for support as the stepped out of the shower together. "I'm only sad that we both have to go to work!"

The next few days were amazing. They rearranged their schedules to have more time together and Warren came by after band practice and pick her up. Then he'd whisk them away to a late night dinner at some famous restaurant or other that she was certain did not normally stay open that late. They would retreat to his place and make love and lie spent together. Although one night she had to sleep in the main bed alone so he could rest his back, their exertions that night proved a bit much for them both.

It seemed so glorious and perfect. Overwhelmingly so. Alison was surprised at how easily it all came to Warren. And the more he arranged new and exciting dates for them, the more she worried. How long until he tired of her? Now that he had his confidence back, surely he would want to have someone of a better social standing. Certainly his family would, she was sure. She squirmed as she bit into a breadstick and her thoughts chased circles in her head.

Warren appeared to notice. "What's wrong? Is it too hot? Don't you like the blessing on it?"

"Blessing? Is that what the flavoring is?" Alison paused to chew the piece more thoughtfully. It was lovely, a rich blend of butter and oils with a variety of seeds on top. "Of course you would give me a blessed piece of bread, you are an Angel after all."

He winced a bit at her words. She stopped chewing. "I'm sorry, I was just joking. What's the matter?" There was nothing untoward in her comment that she could see, unless Warren had become extremely religious while she was gone. She guessed it was possible; the man had gone through a terrible experience in losing his wings.

"No, it's not that, it's just," he glanced down and fumbled with his napkin for a moment. Alison forgot to chew. Nothing seemed to really bother the unflappable Angel. What in the world did she say? Her mind raced back over it all and came up blank.

"Since I lost my wings I haven't felt like an Angel anymore. I haven't felt like much of anything, really. Once Cypher helped me get these mechanical wings through his work at Stark Industries, I've at least been able to fly again. But, I don't think my old codename suits me. I was young and naïve back then. A lot has happened. I'm finally picking up the pieces, and that's in no small part thanks to you." She watched him tip his wineglass at her and take a sip before continuing. "I think with all the changes in my life, it's time for me to take a new codename." She could tell he was watching for her reaction.

So that was it? Hmm, it made sense if he no longer felt the connection to his old one that he should change it, especially if the memories from it caused him pain. She really needed to find out the whole story of how he lost his wings. But how could she bring it up? She wanted to wait until he was ready. The pain seemed pretty raw still. Angel, that is Warren, she corrected herself mentally, clearly suffered a lot given how much he drank at dinner. She suspected he was drinking more than this before she arrived on the scene. She reached out and took the wineglass from him and set it aside before taking his hand.

"If that is what you want to do, you should do it. You wouldn't be the first to grow out of a codename. Look at Sprite. She finally settled on Shadowcat. Uh, she is still Shadowcat, right?"

Warren laughed out loud and said, "Yes, she's still Shadowcat." It was worth it to see him smile again. "Perhaps it is time to visit the mansion again, don't you think?"

Alison sat back and studied the ceiling. The mansion, Professor X, the X-men, was she ready to go back? Could she stand to go back? Being around them was some of the best and absolute worst experiences in her life. Where X-men went trouble followed, no angels required! Looking at Warren, she realized that this was something he needed. Something that he might not be able to face alone. Licking her lips nervously, she said, "Yes, I suppose it might be. But let's not rush over there. Let's take some time to catch up before we deal with everyone else.

"Fair enough," he replied and she watched him drain his glass.

Alison's first concert in the U.S. since she was outed onstage by her boyfriend/manager was coming up fast. She couldn't help but feel nervous about it. The only thing that really helped was knowing that Warren would be there. When she had her first big break, her manager had gotten jealous of the big wigs talking her up more than him. So he revealed that the "lighting effect" boxes were mostly fake and that she was the one creating the lightshow in the middle of the show. The crowd had gone from thrilled to panicked to angry in short order. The people who had been thrilled to see her moments before turned into a vicious mob intent on destroying her.

What no one knew was that Warren Worthington III had stopped in to see the show on a lark. And he had quickly changed into the X-man, Angel, and swooped in to save her life. He was the one to take her back to her parents and explain what had happened and that she had a gift, a gift that needed to be nurtured. It was because of him saying he knew of a safe place that she could study and learn to control that gift that her parents let her leave with him. And then she became one of the X-men herself. Alison rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. She had been singing in Europe as under her own name as Alison. But the opportunity had come up to sing in the states once more and a wave of homesickness or nostalgia overcame good sense and she took it. Hopefully everyone had forgotten about her debut as Dazzler. But if not, at least Warren would be there again.

Her band mates had been with her for at least 2 years and Glen, the drummer, had been with her for 3. They weren't mutants but they were sympathetic. That's why she picked them. But she knew from her days in the field that a sympathizer could easily change his or her mind when faced with the reality up close.

"Hey love, you plannin' on working t'night or are you just gawkin' at the scenery?" Glen said from the drum set that he had been setting up. Glen Sparks was a smokin' drummer, quite literally as well as figuratively. But she didn't tell him to quit smoking and he didn't bug her to stay for the after parties.

"Yeah, I'm set, let's get started," she called back. Alison stepped to the microphone and shook out her hands and arms as John Dorry slung his bass on and Terry adjusted the strings on his guitar. Glen was ready, and so was Rochelle on the keyboard. "A one, a two, a one, two, three." And the music blared out and Alison lost herself in the moment doing what she loved the best.

Two and a half hours later they were outside cooling off outside the front doors to the studio next to the street. Glen lit up a smoke and offered it to her but she waved it away. She had smoked some while in Germany, usually cloves, and she couldn't really afford to risk her voice. She could be social without joining in she found.

"Hey Terry, you need to watch your fingering on the bridge of that last song, you are coming in ahead of the beat," Glen said breathing out a plume of smoke.

Terry fiddled with a jammed catch on his guitar case. "Yeah, I noticed it, too, on the second run through. I plan to go over it back at my pad. I've got some beers in the cooler if anybody wants to come."

"I will," Rochelle replied. "How about you Alison? You've been busy all week, how about unwinding with us?"

"Oh, ah, no, I've got something else to do," Alison said hastily, almost stumbling over the words.

"You aren't cuttin' a contract without us are ya?" Glen cut in, taking a last drag and tossing the butt away. "Because I know it can't be a bloke since you are practically a nun compared to the rest of us. So give, who's this big shot you've been talking to and what's it mean for the band?"

Just then a white limo pulled up to the curb and the band looked on as the driver came around. Their eyes got bigger as they saw Warren Worthington III, America's most eligible bachelor step out. "Good evening gentlemen, ladies," Warren said nodding to them. "Are you ready to go, Alison? I have something special in mind for us tonight."

"Uh, all right," Alison said. Turning back to her band mates she said, "Good practice, I'll see you on Friday, okay? Bye." Then she and Warren ducked into the depths of the limo.

Behind her as the door shut she heard Glen say, "Well, I'll be damned, it was about a bloke."

"Warren, was that wise? You know they are going to talk." Alison fidgeted with the strap of her purse nervously. They had been lucky so far but if her band mates talked the tabloids would be on the two of them in no time flat. She wasn't sure she could handle it.

Warren looked back towards the curb that was rapidly disappearing behind them, then at her. "Would that be so bad? You aren't ashamed to be seen with me are you?"

"No, no, that's not it, I just like the two of us having our privacy for now. I'm worried about the upcoming show and I don't want it to turn out like last time."

"I see." Warren reached over and took her hand and kissed her fingertips. "Nothing is going to happen. You'll see. I promise you that."

His words were sincere but could he really keep her dreams from falling apart again? She gave his hand a squeeze and threw him one of her dazzling smiles before laying her head back and closing her eyes. Some days she still wished she could be a normal girl with a normal life. But then she might not be in a limo with Warren and that was surely worth going through a few difficulties for. She let herself drift off while they drove to whatever surprise Warren had in mind.

When she opened her eyes they were across from the Rockefeller Center. Bright lights beckoned from beyond as the driver opened the door. "Warren! This is, this is…!" Alison raised a hand to her mouth in surprise.

"This is the center of fashion shopping in New York, or at least one of the best known ones. Since you flew in from Europe, I figured you didn't get to bring very many amenities. Allow me to help with that. Go ahead and get whatever you need or want. Just make sure you have at least one formal outfit. We should take in a Broadway play since you are here. Welcome back home, Alison." Warren drew her forth from the limo. A smartly dressed woman detached herself from the crowd and came over to them. "This is Ms. Anastasia Brooks. She is here to assist you with anything you may need. My driver is at your beck and call for the next few hours."

"You can call me Stacy," said the woman, offering her hand. Alison shook it and then realized what Warren was saying.

"Wait, you're not coming?" Alison said, confused.

Warren just shook his head. "You said you were concerned about paparazzi. You go with Stacy, she has access to a special account set up for situations like this."

"Then where will you be?" Alison asked.

"Me? I will be doing what I do best, flying. When you are ready have my driver take you to the Gotham when you are done and I will meet you there. Okay?" Warren gave Alison a quick peck on the cheek as though they were merely old friends and strode away through the crowd, his wings only causing a mild stir. Stranger things were found on the fashion strips of New York.

"Shall we get started, Ms. Blair? There are a few stores that I think you will particularly enjoy," Stacy said, calling Alison's attention away from Warren's retreating back. It was no use watching him in any case. He'd hit the skies as soon as he found a good spot to take off from knowing him. Alison didn't expect her "assistant" to know her last name, but Warren was also known to be thorough. He didn't run a huge conglomerate or head up the X-men team on occasion without having a good head on his shoulders.

"Sure, let's get inside," Alison replied to the girl, smiling. She looked to be five to ten years her junior. She might know fashion and her way around this gargantuan place but Alison wasn't so certain Stacy would know what would look best on _her._

Stacy was a pro and took down a list of basic necessities Alison would need for attending most any sort of function as well as a number of things that would just be wonderful to have. Alison wasn't starving but she didn't have a lot of high-end comforts either. There wasn't much point when she was on the road nearly ten months of the year. They hit various stores and Stacy quickly had her trying on a small ton of outfits, some casual, some so outrageous Alison wondered if anyone could move in them. But finally a series of bags filled and Stacy led Alison to the formal section. They leafed through some racks and quietly bantered about some of the crazier designs, Stacy turned out to be quite personable. Alison didn't have many female friends and Rogue certainly wasn't as interested in fashion as Alison was. Finally they hit upon a champagne dress in a glorious satin with a halter top design that looked like a golden waterfall from the hip and crossed high on the back, looking daring but the front was much more modest with thick embroidery and seed pearls following the lines creating a starburst in the front where they joined and ending in a silvery winged design at the lower back on the opposite side. Nothing could really describe them both better.

Alison ducked to the changing room as Stacy waited outside for the verdict. It felt cool and crisp against her skin and she felt both decadent and elegant all at once in it. It was perfect.

"How's it fit, Ms…Alison?" She had almost forgotten that Stacy would need an answer.

"It's amazing, we should definitely get this one," Alison replied.

"Good to hear! We are cutting it a bit close on time so I recommend we stop for today and let you assess what we managed to pick out and then see what you would like to tackle for our next visit." Alison could hear Stacy scribbling on her clipboard again. Next time? Alison wasn't expecting there to be a "this time" much less do this again anytime soon. Of course she needed to have something more than her stage outfit and a few pairs of street clothes if she wanted to date Warren, but all this and then even more? Did Warren feel he needed to buy her affections? Or is this just what he did for all the girls? He did say that Stacy had access to an account for situations like this. Alison chewed her lip. Was she just reading too much into it? She could ask Stacy about the "account for situations like this" but she might sound like a gold digger and Stacy would probably mention it to Warren. It would be better for her to ask him directly than to try to pump his underlings for information. This wasn't high school after all, and she could handle Warren herself. Looking at the well-dressed stranger in the mirror, she hoped she was right.

The driver pulled up to Gotham and let her out. At Stacy's suggestion, Alison wore one of the more modern outfits out. Her clothes after band practice were a bit worse for wear. But a quick wash and dry at the hair stylist and a few dabs of a new perfume left her feeling refreshed. She stepped onto the sidewalk and wondered if she should wait there or see if Warren had already gone inside. Stacy departed with the new purchases and Alison's old outfit with promises to have the latter dry cleaned and all of it dropped off at Warren's penthouse suite. So there was no help from that corner. But just as Alison figured she would ask the hostess if Warren had already taken a table, he walked up.

He was still adjusting his hair a bit with a comb that soon retreated to a bulging breast pocket. What else was in there? Shall we go in? Warren asked, a hint of whiskey on his breath. Ah, that answered it. Alison frowned a bit and simply said, "Yeah, sure, let's do that," in curt tones. Warren gave her a puzzled look but offered his arm as a gentleman and she chided herself for being cold to the man who just spent a small fortune to make her comfortable in his home and in his life. She needed to give the man a break. "Sorry, I'm just a little peckish after all that. I'm not quite myself at the moment."

This seemed to satisfy him. "Well, you are in luck. Gotham has the very best in truly American cuisine. I thought you might enjoy finding out what you've been missing all this time."

"Oh, I think I have a good idea what I've been missing," she responded a bit more playfully. Warren gave her a slight smile as the hostess led them to their table. He pulled out a chair for her and made certain Alison was comfortable before seating himself. Say whatever else you liked, but dating an impeccable blue blood had its benefits. As they poured over the menus, Alison said, "So this is your idea of 'American' cuisine, is it? Squid and octopus, foie gras, Muscovy duck and soft shell crabs?" She laughed; they probably had more 'American' fare when they were stuck in Australia!

Warren smirked at her and said, "They have burgers, and flat iron steak here as well."

"I bet the burger doesn't even have fries with it," she retorted.

"Au contraire, ma sœur, it says fries right here on the menu."

Alison laughed and admitted defeat, "Fine, then that is what I'll have. That and this place's version of the house salad."

Warren gestured for their server. The man looked nervous as he eyed the metal wings hanging on either side of Warren's chair. Warren deigned not to notice and simply ordered for them both. The server became even more nervous when he realized they had been handed the lunch menu by mistake. Warren simply offered to pay dinner prices for the items, which seemed to brighten the server's mood considerably. He added a Californian white wine to the order since they were celebrating 'American' food. He asked her if she wanted a cocktail and she declined. It wasn't like she didn't drink or wouldn't have something with dinner. In fact, with all the walking around after band practice she would love to have a drink. But Warren drank too much. He couldn't even wait until they had dinner before he started taking nips from the flask in his breast pocket.

Alison ordered a vanilla mint tisane, they actually called them tisanes instead of tea here, and retreated back to her thoughts. People who were drunk made poor decisions. Warren drank a lot, clearly. If he sobered up would he regret asking her to stay? This place would count on her list as elegant cuisine and to him this was slumming. The city mouse and country mouse didn't mix well in the story, how long until this bubble burst? She should probably be grateful Warren even bothered to notice her.

Alison dug about in her handbag to keep Warren from noticing the tears trying to prick the corners of her eyes, when suddenly she heard Warren stand up. Turning, she saw the concierge speaking to him. "Alison, I need to take this call. I will be right back." As Warren left the table, she suddenly felt a pang of loss and remorse. If she worried about everything constantly, she'd lose him that much faster. You can't worry about the competition in music or you will never sing. You have to find your own sound and your own dreams. "But…he's my dream," she whispered to the air.

Warren returned in time for the food to arrive. Alison had to wonder if it was a business knack to pull that off. They both dug in and she had to admit, even the spring greens tasted better here. They ate in silence for a while and Alison managed to compose herself enough that she could enjoy the food. But she knew they needed to talk, and soon. It was probably best to bring it up here where neither of them could wind up making a big scene. She hoped.

Putting down her fork, she began, "Warren, there's something we should discuss."

"Sure, sure, just try these soft-shelled crabs first," he cut in quickly. Sighing a little she reached out for the bite he held out on his fork only to have him bring his other hand up and drop a large object into her hand. It was a gorgeous bracelet formed of olive leaves that she had admired at a store earlier.

"What? How? Warren, where did you get this?" Alison wondered now if she was wrong about the bulge in his jacket. Maybe he met with some business partners and had a social drink with them. Was she jumping to conclusions after all? And now this? It was all too much.

"That call I took was from Stacy. She was dropping it off for me so I could present it to you properly. I do hope you like it," Warren said.

"Well, of course I do, it's gorgeous, but Warren, you didn't have to…"

"Of course I didn't, I want to, and I'm glad to hear that because I have this for you as well." Warren reached into a lower, smaller pocket in his jacket and brought out a small box. Alison couldn't help noticing the bulge was still there. She wanted to kick herself mentally. Warren was being extremely gallant and generous and she was nitpicking. Some girlfriend she made.

Warren moved behind her and a metallic glimmer caught her eye as he lowered a thin, gold necklace with a pendant matching the bracelet in front of her before bringing it slowly back to join the clasp behind her neck. "So? Do you like it? I'm told it will go very well with an outfit you picked out today. I hope to take you out to Broadway soon; you pick the show. Will you wear them for me?" He came around to crouch beside her, it wasn't exactly him getting on one knee but Alison couldn't dismiss the importance of the gift to him.

She looked into his eyes and said, "Of course I will, and yes, I love them, they are beautiful. But really, Warren, you don't have to go to such lengths. And I have no way to repay you or reciprocate." There, at least she could get the conversation started.

Warren took her hand in his and held her gaze in his as he said, "Alison, you are in no way a burden to me, if that is what you are thinking. These things cannot begin to compare to the gift of having you here in my life, right now. You make me happy, and I…" She heard him choking on the words and could see the pain in his face as he said it. "I haven't known what that was for a very long time. I thought it was enough just to be able to fly again. But you? You make my world complete. I asked you to stay, and I meant it." He reached a hand up to touch the side of her face and she laid her cheek into it. "Having you in my life again has been wonderful. I don't know how to show you what that means to me, it's been so long. Just know that it means the world." He slowly rubbed a finger along her cheek as he pulled it away and lifted the hand he held to his lips and kissed it once, lightly. "I love you, Alison. I just want you to know that." He straightened and went back to his seat, she watched him settle his napkin. Then he looked up and said, "So, let's finish our meals shall we?" His smile was back in place and all seemed right in the world. It was enough for now. Alison smiled back and finished her food.

When they returned to his penthouse, he grabbed her arm as she started to walk towards the front doors. "No wait, I want to show you something."

Alison paused but as she started to turn around he scooped her up in his arms and leapt up, his metal wings beating a harsh staccato against the air around them. And in a moment, they were flying. Alison looked at Warren wonderingly and then at the world around them. He flew to the upper floors of the building and landed on the outdoor garden terrace. There he set her down. "I've been wanting to do that forever, but I had to get clearance to try having a passenger. That's why I left you to shop alone. I needed some time to see if my muscles felt strong enough to do this again. I really hate having to take the elevator," he confided.

Smiling, Alison wrapped her arms around his shoulders, having a care not to bump his wings. "It has been a long time since you last took me for a ride, fly-boy."

"It has, hasn't it? Nearly 12 hours, I should remedy that!"

Alison gasped in mock dismay, "You are so bad, Mr. Worthington!"

He put an arm around her and dipped her low, "I told you, I'm no Angel anymore." With that he crouched low and swept her off her feet and carried her into his bedroom, barely avoiding tearing the gauze curtains with his wings as he ducked through them.

Warren set Alison on the bed and stood back, facing her, watching her as he took off his tie and undid the special catches on his clothing that allowed them to accommodate his wings. Alison watched, fascinated, it had been some time since the close quarters they had in Australia and the formal clothes clearly had a new design. Warren folded the shirt and jacket and laid them neatly on the side bed, but once he undid his pants and belt he took all of it off at once this time. As he slid them down he managed to free one sock before stepping out of his shoes and the puddle of his pants. The other joined it rapidly.

Standing once more, he advanced on her and leaned his body against hers, holding her, kissing her. Then he pulled off her shoes and stockings and then reached under the short, black skirt of leather and cashmere to divest her of her panties. Warren let his hands wander up her legs and over the skirt, making it ride up a bit, then across the patchwork angora top. He paused there, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and fingers. "Hmm, angora, eh? I think it suits you." Pressing his hands against her chest he lightly squeezed and then ran his hands down her sides, kissing her all the while. She could feel him hiking up her skirt and was surprised that he wanted her so much that he would skip even undressing her when his lips left hers and he let himself slide down to kneel on the floor. She felt his tongue unexpectedly and moaned. Her body arched backward, her hands pulling up bunches of fabric. And as he brought his skills into play, she went wild, writhing, reaching out and knotting her hands in his hair, not knowing how to express the incredible waves of sensation running through her.

She felt him reaching behind her, taking control by placing his hands behind the small of her back and pulling her forward toward him. But then his arms came over her thighs, and his elbows dug down painfully, almost cruelly, pinning her. The warring feelings snapped her into the present enough to hear his wings moving back, away from her. She whimpered a bit in pain, unable to fully articulate, still caught in the throws of pleasure. Warren reached up to touch her chest again and then gently pushed her back as he ran them down her stomach. It felt like more of a suggestion than a demand, and Alison went with it, laying back on the comforter as his hands came back to rest on her thighs, gentler this time, keeping them away from his bladed wings.

And so it was that when her passion reached its fullness, she could only shudder and cry out, his steely strength holding her fast like a butterfly on a page, and just as she felt she could take it no longer, that even the sensation of his lips were too much, he rose and merged his body to hers. He pulled her even farther towards the edge of the bed before continuing, and the feeling was beyond anything she ever dreamed. "Oh, Warren," she managed as the prolonged sensation of their bodies entwined merged with his rhythm, barely scaling back before building up again. Light exploded in front of her vision, her powers responding to the sounds of their lovemaking. Sparks of red and yellow light, bordering on white scattered and floated across the ceiling and she no longer cared, panting, she rose against him and each moment seemed to last forever. Her eyes fluttered closed again as a second, larger wave of pleasure shook her and she panted under its strength. The little trembles in her body refused to subside, and still he wasn't done with her.

Leaning close he let his tongue play across her neck and chest and Alison curled closer to him in response, her arms wrapping around his neck and holding him close to her. Her body unable to escape, curled around him, and his pace changed in an attempt to adapt to her movements. "Not just yet, Dazzler" he whispered. His arms cradled her and she could only reply with quiet whimpers, torn between pleasure and pain as the wave of sensation rose towards a third crest. She laid her head against his chest and he whispered gentle shushing sounds of comfort as one of his hands came up to stroke her hair. Then she felt him stiffen and then grow relaxed as he gently laid her back down and lay atop her. He gathered some of his weight on his left arm, but she could feel the pressure of his body and those wings still.

She never dreamed it could be like this. All these years of fearing the release of her powers had kept her from experiencing what sex could really be like. Or maybe it was love as well? Damn you, Warren, she thought. But isn't that what she wanted? Yes. But she never gave her heart away because she didn't want to have it broken. And Warren, well, he probably wouldn't be bored with her too soon, but what future did they really have. He had to attend to his business here and her tour would soon carry her away. Did she really want to give up her career right when it finally seemed to be taking off? No. She couldn't bear to fail at it again. It meant the world to her, but so did he. Why did it have to be hard? Did she really have to choose? And there was no guarantee he wouldn't end it for her. She couldn't rely on men, not even Warren. She needed to be able to take care of herself. The future was just too uncertain.

But as they lay there together, panting, slick with sweat, she realized that now was not so bad. She could handle now just fine actually. "It's…it's not that bad," she managed to get out when she had the breath to speak again.

"What? All that and all you can say is that it's 'not that bad"?!" Warren gasped out, incredulous and more than a little amused.

"Not that, silly," she replied, trying to laugh but lacking enough breath to do so, "your weight, it's not that bad, even with the wings."

"Oh?" he responded in surprise, his voice suddenly sober.

"Here, let me see," she said, pulling him more squarely over her. He went along with it, moving gently and letting his full weight settle on her, his eyes and face full of concern. "Nope, it's really not that bad," she gasped out. She wouldn't want to bear it for long periods but his fears of crushing her were overblown. "You weigh about the same as a regular body builder these days, I think. You always were a lightweight, Warren, if I remember right. It wasn't that hard to pull you off the field when you got injured. Didn't you tell me something about your bones, a long time ago?"

Warren shifted his weight back to his arm some, and ran a finger along her belly to her sternum and back before he spoke, "Yeah, my mutation isn't just my wings. I have hollow bones, like a bird, for flight and my eyes can handle the high wind speeds as well."

"Well there you go then," Alison said running a finger over his lips and giggling as he playfully bit it. "You've reached normal human mass. Maybe a bit on the higher end of the scale, but certainly not worse."

"That's kind of good to know. I really didn't want to wind up hurting you sometime." He kissed the finger as she drew it away.

"You were really worried about hurting me?"

"Of course, I love you Alison. You are the bright light in my life right now. I don't want to do anything to hurt you."

"Hmm," Alison said pensively. "Well, I don't think that's an issue tonight. Let's get some sleep, okay?" Alison smiled at him and Warren gave her a bemused smile back before scooting to the far side of the bed so he could safely accommodate his wings. But even as contented and happy as she was in the moment, she couldn't help but dwell on the words "right now". Sometimes she wished her brain would just shut off a bit and not try to ruin things. But fortunately, sleep was truly beckoning and she left her worry behind for a while as she slipped down into the arms of sleep.


End file.
